


Helping Hand

by Haldane



Category: Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 19:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haldane/pseuds/Haldane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes and Watson return from another successful case, but not all is well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helping Hand

I was glad to finally shut the door on Holmes' bedroom and head for the peace of my recharging alcove. I was sure that Holmes would call the day a success, but I considered my part in it as a failure. We caught our criminal, however Holmes had leapt precipitously in front of me at exactly the wrong time, and been caught by an electrical discharge. He simply cannot keep in mind that I am a machine, well able to handle most physical obstacles, and insists on taking risks he need not.

In this case he had wound up with severe burns on both hands. While current medical technology allows humans to be free of fear of infection or scarring, healing still proceeds at the same pace that it always has, and it would be weeks before the skin regenerated completely. I would have to assist him more than usual over that time; but for now he was settled in his room for the night with only medigloves installed on both hands to show of his injuries.

I was two steps away from my alcove when I heard the cry. It came from Holmes' room, and without hesitation I strode back and re-entered the room.

Holmes was lying on the bed, in no visible distress. He was considerably startled, however, by my sudden appearance.

"Watson! What are you doing in here?" He began tugging at his blankets, pulling them to cover his body. I am aware that humans have nudity taboos; seeing that Holmes was in no immediate danger I turned my back to give him what privacy I could. I heard him hiss suddenly through his teeth; he must have used his hands too carelessly and caused pain in the unhealed nerves.

"I heard you cry out. I feared you had fallen, or done further damage to your hands. Do you need my help with... well, with whatever you were trying to do?"

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" I could tell he was emotionally upset over something by his tone, but I still could not determine what his problem was.

"To be honest, I have no idea. You do not seem to be doing anything."

"I am sorry, Watson." His tone was considerably less agitated. "I had forgotten that you have such a difference frame of reference in physical matters. The problem is _this_."

I turned back around. Holmes had given up on the blankets, and lay without clothes on the top of his bedding, gesturing at his groin with one hand.

"I perceive that you are in a state of sexual arousal. I did not realise that such a state could be painful."

"The state itself, no. But I cannot _do_ anything about it with these hands!"

"What needs to be done? My anatomical knowledge suggests that if left alone, the problem will resolve itself."

Holmes sighed and looked resolutely at the ceiling. I recognised this as a sign that he was approaching an issue that was difficult for him to speak about. "When I am on a case, I push all emotion aside. But I still feel them; I just block their effects. Once the case is over, the emotions demand expression." He looked directly at me. "Demand, do you understand? I become physically aroused, and it burns until I can climax and find release." His voice lost its calm tone and rose in pitch and volume. "Which I cannot do with my hands in this state!"

"Can I assist you? I am able to control the strength of my fingers with a great deal of dexterity. You need not fear I would do you any injury." 

Holmes stared at me. "You... offer to do this? You have no embarrassment, no sense of disgust?"

"New Scotland Yard does not supply their droids with liabilities such as a capacity for embarrassment or bodily taboos. My priorities are to offer whatever assistance I can, and if I can help you I will."

"Watson." It was no louder than a breath, yet I heard it. "Sit here, on the side of the bed."

"Better if I sit on the floor, my friend." I replied. "You have forgotten my weight." 

Holmes laughed a little at that, and I knelt down by his side, my right hand resting near his head and my left near his swollen penis. I examined it more closely, registering that it was hotter than the rest of his body, engorged with blood, the skin stretched tight to contain it. That part of the body is supplied with a disproportionate number of nerve endings; I would have to handle it very carefully.

I laid my right hand along the side of his face, activating my medical scanner. I decided not to mention this to Holmes, as my limited understanding indicated that sexual acts were not moments for purely technical matters. I did hope he would be able to explain what he needed without too many euphemisms or assumptions.

"Wrap your hand around my shaft. A bit harder... yes, more like that. Now start with slow strokes, up and down." I did as he directed, feeling the outer layer of skin slip over the flesh beneath, and monitoring his pulse and blood pressure. I noticed physiological changes almost immediately; both his heart rate and blood pressure increased, and also his skin began to sweat lightly. I decided these were positive signs under the circumstances.

Then I saw a tiny crease between his eyebrows, as if he was frowning very slightly. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"It's... a bit too regular. Too even." Holmes stopped for a moment to take a couple of extra breaths. "Mechanical, if you'll pardon the term. Human hands are less precise."

"I think I understand. More like this?" I programmed in a random variable to both the strength of my grip and the speed of my strokes, and then included a change in the length of the strokes as well. Holmes closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, and I saw more physical reactions consistent with heightened arousal. 

There was nothing in the journals that I had read to supply the information I required, so I consulted several works of erotic literature in the public library databases. Armed with my new knowledge, I slid my right hand down along Holmes' body, slowly, taking care to brush over one nipple with my fingertips. He groaned, and I noted the effect. I kept going, running my hand down his flank and the side of his hip; he bent his knee to allow my hand access under his thigh, and I touched his perineum.

"Ah!" That seemed to be pulled from his throat involuntarily, and I began to take a certain amount of pride at my skill in this new field. When I squeezed my left hand more tightly he pressed up into my grip, and I cradled his scrotum in the palm of my right hand, gently rolling his testes with my fingers.

This last action provided the correct amount of stimulation. Holmes tensed all over, his body arching, and produced several spurts of white fluid from his erect penis. The amount of sweat on his skin suddenly increased, as did his heart rate, but that almost immediately began to slow down as his muscles relaxed and he collapsed back upon the bed. 

I deactivated my medical scanner, since I believed Holmes was now past his crisis. However I felt strangely reluctant to leave his presence.

"Holmes? May I ask you something?"

"Certainly." He yawned, however. "In thanks, if for no other reason. Just do it quickly, before I fall asleep." He reached for a handkerchief that was lying next to his pillow; I gently took his wrist in my hand to stop his motion before he could hurt himself again. I correctly deduced the handkerchief's purpose, and after cleaning him I began to arrange his bedding over him for sleep.

"There was no mention of this need of yours in the journals written by Dr. Watson. Did I miss it, or was it not recorded?"

Holmes was silent, and I became concerned that I had offended him. Human privacy is a difficult matter. "Consult your penal code history database. For a man to even say that he wished another man to touch him would be sufficient to send him to prison. And for a detective, even an independent one, to be sent to prison might as well have been a sentence of execution."

This did not precisely answer my question, and Holmes is always very precise. For some reason I persisted, despite fear that I was treading on shaky ground. "So did he not record it for fear of unauthorised access, or did he not know?"

Holmes rolled away from me and faced the wall. I was about to leave the room when he spoke. "He didn't know, because I never told him. I wanted him all the years I knew him, but I never told him."

I understood enough of human emotional behaviour to leave without another word.


End file.
